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So Beautiful	By : Leneanna Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Savage Garden Views: 1843 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Savage Garden. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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I made sure no one was looking, and untucked my shirt, so the whole bloody world wouldn’t see me sporting wood out in public. Darren sniggered and turned to watch the dog swim across the pond. I came up behind him and rocked my hips against his arse, just so he could feel what he did to me. I stroked my thumb across his nipple.

“Mmm...”

It felt like forever before the dog came out of the pond and shook himself off. Darren put his arm around me.

“Let’s go home and love each other up.”

Once in the hot tub, I sat on his lap. Feeling his hands on my arse had me burning in anticipation.

“Pick up a bit, Rich.”

I shuddered as his fingers found their way to the magic spot.

He whispered, his lips on my neck: “You like it, don’t you, Darlin’?”

“Oh yeah,” I moan in response, my eyes closed.

With my hands on his face, I lean in to kiss him passionately. I moan when he opens his mouth and lets me stick my tongue in to meet his. Big turn-on for me. I reach down to stroke his erection. I feel him shiver.

Whenever you’re ready, Beautiful,” he says softly, looking into my eyes.

I re-position myself on his lap, and help him ease into me, a little at a time. He’s moving a bit, but I’m doing most of the work. It’s so much easier in the water. I adjust the angle until I’m comfortable. He loves to watch my face whilst we’re going at it. I love it when he whispers to me, particularly if it’s dirty. Smiling, I close my eyes and ride him with reckless abandon.

“Mmm...that’s it, Baby. Work it. (gasp) Ooh Richard...oh yeah, that feels...ohhh.....”

I let my head fall back.

“Oh God...”

We’re both breathing hard. He moves in sync with me, and we climax together, looking into each other’s eyes. He pulls me close, and reaches down to stroke me as I’m crying out his name. I feel him release inside me, his body shuddering against mine. We just close our eyes and hold each other, knowing he has to leave in the morning. We stay in the hot tub together a few more minutes.

“I need to start on dinner. I have yet to pack.”

“I know, Luv.”

He climbs out and gets dressed. I do the same a few minutes later.

Dinner was delicious.

He left early in the morning, and kissed me good-bye, saying he’d call when he got there. I spent the afternoon working on a video. He was excited about the songs they were doing on this trip. He finished the lyrics to the first one late in the afternoon the next day, and headed for the gym. I was again in my office working, taking a quick loo break, and then checked my e-mail. What the @#%$ ??? Michael Jackson is dead? Can’t be. Oh no! Darren. He’s going to be absolutely gutted, and I’m not there to comfort him. Should I call him, or wait? I debated with myself. Turns out Darren was on a treadmill, watching telly when the story broke. He burst into tears and went back to his hotel room, where he rang me up.

“I just heard, Luv. I know, Darren. I’m sorry.”

Tears are streaming down my face, listening to him sob. I just let him talk. My heart crumbled, feeling his pain.

“I’m coming out there. I don’t want you to be alone.”

We made the arrangements as quickly as we could, and a few hours later, I was on a plane to Stockholm. He had a driver meet me at the airport. It was the middle of the night when I got there. I knew he wouldn’t be sleeping, just lying there watching telly, hugging the pillow and crying, most likely. The manager at the front desk was expecting me. He gave me a key and put me right on the lift to Darren’s room. I walked in, and we just looked at each other. He looked totally drained and exhausted, what with long hours in the studio, and lack of sleep, not to mention crying. I kicked off my shoes and joined him on the bed. He buried his face in my chest and sobbed.

“It’s alright, Luv. I’m here.”

No words from me could ease his pain. All I could do was hold him and let him cry. I cried with him, mostly because it broke my heart to see him so shattered. He still had to sing in the morning, and no telling what shape his voice would be in. He finally fell asleep, but I know he was in for a rough day tomorrow. Not sure that a hot shower and a cup of tea made him feel any better, but he had work to do.

I set up my stuff at the desk in the room. The studio they were working in was only a couple of blocks away, so I could get to him quickly. He kept in touch with me by phone, and they didn’t get done until evening. We went to dinner and walked back to the hotel. I wouldn’t let him turn on the telly. Same thing on every channel anyway. I had him take a bath, and I gave him a back rub. He made it through the day by channeling his feelings into the music. Whatever helps. He’ll get through this. I just don’t want to see him fall ill from stress and exhaustion. What we agreed on is that A. There is no such thing as “being miserable in someone’s honour.” You remember the joy they brought you, and B. You cannot take a single moment for granted, because you may not have tomorrow.

Once his work on this project was done, we flew home with renewed appreciation for each other, and even took in a movie on Sunday afternoon. It’s become a ritual for us. The movie was stupid and the popcorn was greasy, but it was still fun.

A new toy store just opened near the mall. Big grand opening sale. We went, just for fun. For me it was the nostalgia of seeing some of the stuff I played with as a kid. Forget all this electronic shit. We used our imaginations.

“Battleship! I loved that game!”

“I’ll have you know there was no one that could beat me at Battleship, Darren.”

His eyes light up.

“We should get it. Oh no way! Operation! Remember that?”

By the time we left, we’d bought enough of our favorite childhood games to fill Santa’s sleigh. I’m going to kick his arse at Battleship, no question. And probably at Operation too. You know who’s gonna love this? Exactly. Shave!

So, after suffering a resounding defeat in Round One, Darren was undaunted.

“Best two out of three.”

“Deal.”

He lost again. This time he eyes me suspiciously.

“You’re cheating!”

“Bullshit! There’s a strategy to it, and you just haven’t figured it out yet,” I answer smugly.

“Alright, how about this: one more game, and the winner gets a blowjob?”

I laugh.

“Either you really want to give one, or you hate to lose.”

“I hate to lose.”

I haven’t even told him that I’ve kept my ships in almost exactly the same place every time, and he still lost. Too easy! He rolls his eyes.

“Now, or later?”

“I haven’t decided yet. How about you kiss me first and help me make up my mind?”

He pulls me close.

“You’re not gonna beat me at ‘Operation’.”

“We’ll see.”

He gives me a juicy kiss.

“Mmm...”

“Have you decided yet?”

“Leaning toward ‘now’. Need another kiss.”

Fingers brushing lightly behind my ear. His knee between mine. I groan softly. He’s getting to me and he knows it. Kisses down my neck.

“Um, Darren?”

“Yes, Darling?”

“Now.”

He leads me by the hand to the couch.

“Here?”

“Why not?”

“Don’t want to mess up the sofa.”

“I’m swallowing.”

My eyes darken just thinking about it. As we’re kissing, I lie back. He’s on top of me, grinding his hips against mine.

He kisses my neck and whispers: “You wanna feel me sucking on it, don’t you?”

“Yes...I love it.”

“I know you do. I love you, Richard.”

“Then do me before I come in my pants.”

“You have more control than that.”

“Yes, usually, but you’re testing it.”

He laughs.

“I won’t make you wait any longer, Sweetie.”

He unzips my trousers. As his hand closes around me, I arch into his touch and close my eyes.

“Darren...”

His hand is warm around me. Ooh, the friction!

“Look at me, Rich.”

I open my eyes just as I feel his mouth engulf me. I lace my fingers through his hair, gasping.

“Yeah...just like that, Luv. Mmm...right there. Ohhh...Darren...oh fuck...don’t stop!”

I try to hold back a bit longer, because it feels so good, and I want it to last, but he’s taking me right to the edge, and I’m this close.

“Darren...gonna come...”

He sucks harder. My body tenses as my eyes roll back.

“Oh God...oh yeah...Darren...”

I hold my breath, shuddering, as I give in to the release. I hear myself crying out his name. He swallows, and licks every last drop off me. Bloody hell, that felt good! I smile at him.

“Thank you, Darren. Love you.”

“Love you too. You just rest, Darling.”

He lays his head on my stomach, and we cuddle for a few minutes.

“You know what tomorrow is, Rich?”

“What’s that, Luv?”

“The funeral. Will you watch it with me? I need you to help me get through it.”

“Of course, Darren.”

It was rough. He cried all day. He spent most of it on the sofa, in my arms, crying his eyes out. The last straw for me was that poor child. After it was over, I turned off the telly. (sigh)

I stroke Darren’s hair.

“Tomorrow’s another day, Luv.”

We both worked pretty hard all week. He was in the studio working on his own songs, and I was finishing up the video I’d been editing. He ended up staying really late on Friday to get the vocals done, so I tivo’d Big Brother for him. Ended up making myself dinner and leaving a plate for him in the fridge. He didn’t get in until 1:30 in the morning. I was asleep by then. He watched Big Brother and ate before coming up to bed. I felt him climb in beside me, but I didn’t really wake up.

We are definitely spending all weekend together. We did the grocery shopping, and even the washing together on Saturday. On Sunday, we went shopping in the West End, and then to the movies. I knew Darren wasn’t going to like Bruno. He felt it only propagated negative stereotypes, even without meaning to. Probably should’ve gone to see “Ice Age” instead.
But hey, I bought a new pair of trainers. Darren was right: New shoes do make you feel good.

But get this: we were walking the dog in the park, and a group of teenagers, more like what Darren would call “a gaggle of wankers”, lobbed an egg at us! It whizzed past us and splatted on the ground. We turned around and glared at them. They couldn’t have been older than 15 or 16 years of age. About 4 of them. What did they expect us to do, run and hide? We kept walking. They didn’t throw anything else, but we heard a few loud homophobic slurs. Oh, I was tempted to shout back, but I wasn’t going to stoop to their level. I was pissed off. Darren was upset. You know he took it personally. I highly doubt the little fuckers had any idea who he was. Regardless, they were just kids. I chalked it up to ignorance and immaturity, and let it go. He was in tears by the time we got home.

“Come on Luv, they’re not worth it.”

“All my life, Rich. I’ve been called a faggot all my life.”

“And I haven’t? I just don’t let it bother me anymore. We’re gay and proud, not ashamed. They’re the ones that have the problem with it, not us. Let it go.”

“(sniff) You’re right.”

“Gimme a hug.”

However, I privately told myself that if I ever encounter those little bastards again and Darren’s not around, I might allow myself the satisfaction of a few vicious comebacks. Provided I’m not in danger of getting beat up. Meantime, I hope they all come down with bird flu from throwing that egg. Just for upsetting my Darren!
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So Beautiful